


Oral Fixation

by NegansOtherWife



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: Oral fixations are a desire to have or put something in one’s mouth. Other symptoms include a sarcastic or “biting” personality.





	Oral Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> I hit 600 followers on Tumblr and both of my current stories are doing so well (woot!). I’d like to say ‘thank you’ with a smutty one-shot (or two). Thank you, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. And without further ado…SHAMELESS SMUT (the best kind, really)!

“What’s an oral fixation?” You’d regretted telling Tabitha the minute she opened her big mouth. She could never understand. Try as she might. The ditzy blonde was living up to every preconceived notion that there ever was about blonde haired woman and it was quite sad, seeing how she was the only friend you’d made so far at The Sanctuary.  

“Forget about it,” You huff, turning away for a brief moment to stir the sauce on the stove, privy to the fact that lunch at the factory would begin in less than two hours. If you ruined the sauce, it’d be your ass on the line.

“No, I’m serious, Y/N. Really, you can tell me,” She insists. Tabitha’s persistent, you’ll give her that much and being as she won’t let this go, you decide to fill her in on your current problem.

“It’s this… _craving_ , almost,” Your tone lowers to a hushed whisper, she eagerly leans in, hanging on to your every word, “I need to have something in my mouth.” You figure the simplified version of your ‘condition’ wouldn’t go sailing over her head. 

“Oh,” She breaths, almost as if to say: ‘that’s it?’

If only she knew. 

“So what’s the problem?” She questions skeptically.

You debate for a moment if you really should be admitting this out loud before mentally saying, ‘fuck it’. 

“Usually my fixation isn’t so bad. They come and go, really,” For once, Tabitha actually looks as if she’s interested in what you have to say, “if it’s a spoon, no problem. It’s usually something random,” Your words trail off, still unsure if you should go on.

“Oh!” You watch her blank features brighten for a moment. “So that’s why you’re always chewing on straws!”

Okay, so there was something up there functioning in her head after all. Good to know.

“Exactly like that,” You give her a small nod, and she claps her hands together. Almost, like a seal. “But lately, there’d been this craving that I can’t—”

“Inspection time, ladies!” The metal doors to the kitchen swing open, making a loud crashing sound against the metal wall. Chaos, absolute chaos begins to stir just below the pit of your gut. Negan, flanked by Dwight and Laura, saunters through the door with a wide smile. Lucille clutched firmly in his hand.

Your stomach twists uncomfortably at the image and you turn away, putting your sole attention into the simple task of stirring the sauce before you. 

Your mind was really trying to fuck you over, and _why_? You had no idea. You’d been a slave to intrusive thoughts and these sporadic ‘wants’ your whole life, always giving in before the urges became too strong. Shouldn’t they that at least grant you some reprieve? You’d catered to them for so long. 

“Now which lucky lady is going to have the honors of doing inventory with me?” Negan’s eyes span the mass of kitchen workers before him and when you’re treated to a view of his broad back, clad in leather, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh, shit!” The noisy clattering of dishes hitting the floor pierces the stilted silence from behind you, and you turn, taking in Tabitha’s sheepish expression. “Sorry, sorry! My fault!” She whispers reverently, crouching down to clean up her mess.

“Tabitha—!” You hiss, seeing as she’s now drawn the attention of the entire room. Your heart sinks when you lock eyes with Negan.  

“You,” Negan’s voice drifts closer and you do your best to retain the groan just itching to flow forth from your clenched lips, “you’re doing inventory today.”

Or, maybe not. Faith could still grant you a pardon for today.

“But the sauce,” You scramble for a tentative excuse that won’t spark any kind of backlash, hoping to keep an impartial expression, while continuously stirring, “it might burn and lunch is starting soon, sir.” You’re not above ass kissing.

Your words seem to have the opposite outcome you’d hoped for and instead of backing off, he advances forward. Coming around the large tabletop that dominates the kitchen until you can taste his approach on your tongue. It mingles with Lucille’s. An air of bergamot with just a hint of oranges from the polish you knew Negan rubbed on Lucille each night. 

He leans forward onto the counter, resting Lucille beside him. Your eyes flicker to the movement before hastily returning to the sauce. “Let me have a taste.”

At his request, you turn, searching for a plastic spoon. Not far away, Laura snatches a jar of pickles from the counter, clutching them possessively to her chest before marching away. Odd girl.

Rather than accepting the spoon, he gazes at you expectantly. Of course, the man didn’t want to lift a finger. Not even when it came to such trivial things. Spooning some of the bolognese sauce, you lift it carefully to his mouth. He blows it before slurping from the offered helping.

“Needs more basil,” He licks his lips, “and a tad bit more salt.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you do as he says. All the while, he stays by your side, waiting expectantly. “You like working in the kitchen?” He makes idle chit-chat as his eyes roam the room. Tabitha walks by and you don’t miss the way his eyes fall to her swaying behind.

“It’s fine,” You retort shortly. 

While he’s distracted you take time to study the object of your recent desire without any prying eyes. It hadn’t been your fault, really, more often then naught it’d been Dwight who completed kitchen inspections. But this past couple of weeks Negan had taken to the task. Now it seemed, you were being cruelly taunted in more ways than one. 

The slight bulbous head. The mouther-watering curve of her midsection leading to her narrow handle. Lucille was every craving you’d ever had embodied. One you could never act upon.  

“You about done yet?” His patience begins wearing thin. 

Swallowing heavily, you answer, “Just about.” You put the sauce to simmer. 

Grabbing a spare notebook from a drawer, you take all the time you can before giving up and heading towards the back of the kitchen where the walk-in pantry is located. Heavy footsteps follow you. 

It’s your own personal death march, you realize.

“Alright, darling.” Once inside the pantry, he pauses, gesturing towards the extensive walk-in pantry with Lucille. Your stomach pinches as your eyes narrow to slits, drinking in the sight of his leather-clad palm tightly encompassing her. “Where do we start?”

How sick were you? Slight moisture begins to pool at the apex of your thighs as you envision yourself taking the handle between your lips, lapping at the narrowed base. Your mind runs away with ideas of what the wooded texture would feel like against your warm tongue. 

The door shuts behind him with an air of finality. 

“Um,” Shaking your mind clear of the intrusive thoughts, you start in a random direction until your gaze lands on a shelf holding a small supply of canned green beans, “I think we’re running low on canned items. Just give me a second to count them, sir.”

Anything to put distance between the two of you. You fear what you would do if you got too close. 

Soon you lose yourself in numbers, attempting to hastily distract your mind with the task at hand. The sooner you completed inventory, the faster you could put this unpleasantry behind you. Encouraged by the thought, you move onto another shelf, quickly filling the paper with your chicken scratch handwriting.

“Alright, that’s about it.” Negan had leisurely made his way towards the back of the pantry while you’d bounced between shelving units like a ferret on crack. Or Tabitha, when she can’t decide which way is up.

“You missed a shelf.”

“Huh?” You’re poised at the door, ready to leave. “That’s not true. I made sure to be very vigilant, sir.”

The look he pierces you with is one of fraying patience, so you backtrack, “Okay, let me see.”

He lightly taps the bottom shelf so that the sound reverberates throughout the room. 

Up your spine.

Without thinking you drop to your knees, taking note of the bare shelf. 

Empty.

“See, for this job to be done,” He taps the shelf again, “I need to have everything written down. Now be a good girl and look again.” An unexpected ting of electricity travels the length of your spine when he calls you a good girl.

As if to add insult to injury, something beckons his attention across the room. 

He leaves Lucille leaning against the same shelving unit that you’re hastily scrutinizing. You beg the entity in the sky that is obviously toying with you for an answer. Why you? Of all days and at all times, why you? All the while Negan keeps up his mindless chatter. Your mind runs away with the thought, peeling back the wallpaper in your head to reveal the dark temptation oozing from the cracks. 

He’s so far away. Would it hurt to touch her?

Negan’s voice retreats further as he begins to debate out loud the merits of canned versus fresh produce. 

The faint gleam of her polish beckons you to lean closer until the tip of your nose lightly brushes the handle. 

Who could it hurt?

String beans. You remember now. The empty shelf had contained string beans. So now with nothing to impede your coveted desires, you can act upon them.

Citrus and oak. Just the tip of your tongue lightly taps the grainy surface of Lucille but its enough. You barely contain the soft mewl that hangs precariously at the tip of your tongue. 

_What would it feel like to take the handle of Lucille into your mouth?_ _What would it taste like? Surely it could hurt no one._

The thoughts run compulsively on a loop until you find your arms outstretched and reaching towards her. Oh, my. It’s better than anything you’d ever held. You realize it then. You can have it all and no one would suffer. 

“What the fuck are you doing to my precious Lucille?” His playful demeanor settles into something more, something sinister as he quickly catches Lucille in your grasp. He’d quietly snuck up behind you. For how long, you’re unsure. “Were you thinking about killing me, doll? Bashing my head in when I wasn’t looking?” He squints, not looking too surprised at this supposed facet of information. “Have I ever did anything to you? I fuck with a lot of people, baby.”

Backing away, you cower in his stare, unsure if hiding the truth any longer would get you anywhere but on your early deathbed. “Please, don’t!” You cry. Shirking away farther, when he roughly snatches her from your hands. 

“Spit it out!” He barks. 

Irritated, you spit into the spacious pantry. “I have an oral fixation, _okay!_ ”

Silence. 

You feel you should at least fill in the stifling silence between the two of you. “It’s when…”

“I know what it is,” He cuts in sharply and once again the pantry lapses into an uncomfortable silence. 

“Holy shit!” He breathes, rubbing his beard thoughtfully as his eyes suddenly begin to twinkle with mirth. “So you’re saying you want to touch my Lucille, put your mouth on her.” Your face heats at his steadily increasing volume. By the look of shame on your face, he can tell. He knows. “Wait till Simon get’s a load of this—”

“No, please!” You spring forward, grasping at the sleeve of his leather jacket, “It’s embarrassing enough. I just wanted a taste…only a little one.” You add meekly. 

“Let me get this straight. You put your fucking tongue on Lucille? My girl?” He leans closer. “Were you gentle with her?”

You nod.

“Did you get that little tongue of yours nice and wet before you went down on her?”

Another nod, although slightly hesitant.

“I’m pretty fucking jealous.” He admits. “Lucille and I are pretty close. And yes…that means in my most private moments I’ve rubbed my dick against her. I’d hate for her little _indiscretion_ to tear us apart. ”

You’re speechless. He gazes at you with an unfathomable expression on his face as he gauges your reaction to his admission. 

“I could show you,”  You attempt to moisten your lips that have gone dry, “if you let me touch her some more.”

He looks intrigued and as he studies your knelt position before him. You only have eyes for Lucille. He sets her down close enough to be in arms reach before stepping closer to you. So that his crotch is eye level. Peaking up at him through your lashes, you suck on your tongue for a little relief while considering your predicament. 

“I would be more forgiving if I knew what Lucille had done while my back was turned.” He murmurs, reaching out a finger to trace your cheek that gently undulates as you suckle your tongue. The leather is cool on your overheated face. 

“Then I get to touch her?”

“Within reason,” He counters. “And on my fucking terms.”

He loosens his belt. His jeans sag revealing the waistband of his black briefs. Huh. The unexpected twinge of arousal between your thighs catches you off guard as a part of his stomach, a sun-kissed sliver of skin becomes revealed to you. 

Intrigued you tug at his jeans until there’s more skin for you to drink in. You’d never considered Negan as a person, let alone his physique. He’d been obnoxious and crude the first moment you’d met him, so you’d kept your distant and shortly ago he’d been a means to an end. You can feel the very moment that your perspective shifts and the craving for Lucille’s taste lessens as you tug further on Negan’s belt loop. More skin. You want to taste it all. 

Your labored breathing matches his as you curl your fingers in the waistband of his jeans, making quick work of his zipper. The weight of his palm presses into your shoulder, anchoring you in place.

“Better hurry, baby.” His off-handed comment has you scrambling as you remember where you are and what you’re doing. 

Free from its cloth prison, Negan’s member bobs slightly, softly hitting you on the chin as it juts out from between his trim hips. 

You spend several moments in contemplative silence inspecting his impressive girth, and the prominent vein that runs along the underside of his dick before thumbing the clear fluid at the tip. With a small suck of his teeth his large hand cups the base of your skull, bringing your head closer to the base of his shaft and his balls. You have just a small window of time to inhale a sharp breath before he pushes you into his crotch. Musk and salt invade several of your senses as you extend your tongue to taste his sac.

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? I bet you wouldn’t mind if I didn’t warm you up first. Just stuffed my fat cock down your tight throat until you’re begging for air.” Tapping the side of your cheek with his dick, he moves forward, offering you his balls to suckle as he begins to slowly stroke himself to your tongue’s meticulous movement.

“Such a dirty _fucking_ girl,” He guides the tip of his dick into your waiting mouth, hissing at the heat and dampness that awaits him, “sucking my cock just to get a taste of Lucille.”

You’re not sure what to do with your hands. It’s clear that not only does Negan like to be in charge of other people, but his pleasure as well as he keeps a grip on himself. He’s hard and heavy in your mouth and you do the best you can, within his scope, eagerly slurping at his length as your eyes water. They eventually come to rest upon Negan’s heated stare. The sight of him unrestrained makes you quiver, the sensation collecting between your legs as his hips quicken. 

He thrusts with precision and power. Thrusts that steal your ability to breath and give you no choice but to inhale through your nose. When it’s finally too much, you tug at his shirt so that he’ll grant you a brief reprieve. 

“What now?” You ask, dabbing at your mouth with the edge of your shirt.

“Pull up your shirt.” The biting command has the opposite effect on you. You’d expected something else. Possibly, disgust? Instead, your nipples strain against the thin cotton of your t-shirt and you do so, surprising yourself at the eagerness in which you take to the task. 

His hungry orbs work quickly to devour the bare skin of your breasts. Wordlessly, he outstretches his arms to grasp Lucille with his right hand while his other grips your hair in a tight makeshift ponytail. You’re somewhat disappointed, having expected him to touch them.  To touch you. But the dismay easily dissolves as you eye Lucille curiously. Curiosity piqued, you imagine that it’s her in your mouth. Sliding your flat tongue along his shaft before reaching the tip, soft tonguing it until he begins to release small grunts of appreciation. 

“That’s more fucking like it.” He quietly boosts, fixing you with a toothy grin that makes you moan. “How does my dick taste, baby? Think you can take more?”  

In response, you hollow out your mouth, relaxing your throat as the tip of his dick begins to slip down your throat. 

“Mother- _fuck_!” Your nose brushes the soft curls at the base of his shaft, massaging his length with your throat as you swallow. “So fucking good. I think you need a reward, honey. Pull your jeans down little.”

It isn’t a question and you find that you don’t mind at all. Pressing your thighs together briefly before doing as he says. For a moment, you consider removing your underwear but decide against it. Self-conscious, despite the fact that you’re currently working him with your throat. 

The brief sting of pain that bounces off your ass is all it takes for you to begin moaning around his length. Negan does it once more, liking the vibrations that shoot along his dick. He taps Lucille against the curve of your ass and the snares of her barbed wire have you begging for air.

“A moment.” You choke, sucking in lungfuls of air. Your head threatens to float away as he rolls Lucille across the expanse of your ass. She softly bites into the fleshy skin, the barbs nipping at the fabric of your panties. 

“Take all the fucking time you need, hun.” You sag against his frame, knelt before him as he toys with your ass. Softly smacking the cheeks of your ass until the feeling reverberates to your core. You envelop him once more into your mouth with a renewed fever, tonguing the vein as your free hand travels to the crotch of your dampened panties. “How do I taste?”

“Good,” You hum.

“Better than Lucille?” His dark eyes sparkle with mirth, catching your red-handed. 

“Yes,” You consider the truth. “At least you’re more fun to play with.”

“Baby, you can play with me anytime you want.”

You’re not sure if he’s serious but he doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s grunting, tilting your head back as he begins to properly fuck your mouth. You’re helpless to his assault. Relaxing your throat as he slips even farther down the tight passage.

“Just as tight as pussy. And so fucking wet.” He pumps his hips, as your hands quicken between your legs. “Swallow.” He grunts.

The moment his warm release touches your tongue, you combust, choking it down as your core clenches tight enough to brush its own walls against one another. He’s musk and sweetness all rolled into one.  

With one final tap against your ass, he steps away, rubbing his lip thoughtfully as you both dress in a stilted silence. “I’ll be seeing more of you.” 

You shiver delicately at his promise. For once you have nothing to say. 

Minutes later, you slink back toward’s Tabitha’s side, noting the way her brow furrows with intense concentration as she stirs the sauce you’d left simmering on the burner, almost as if the task is too much. “So tell me more about your this ‘oral fixation’ thingy, Y/N.” She requests distractedly. “What’s got you bent out of shape?”

“Never mind that one,” You mutter, “I may as well have gotten over it.”

Negan saunters out of the pantry several minutes later, the complete picture of ease. Snatching a hot roll from the cooling rack, it’s barely notable, indiscernible from his usual bravado. The swagger in his step, the only indication of what you’d done. 

“Think I’ve found a new one.” With one last lingering glance in his direction, you turn to assist her.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: https://negansaysyouearnwhatyoutake.tumblr.com


End file.
